The Royal Mess Read Free Page A

Nicole, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, but I wasn’t exactly asking.”
    â€œI’m not going and I do not submit to your authority, sir.”
    â€œUh.” The king shot Jeff a look and coughed again. “You sort of don’t have a—”
    â€œHow quickly we forget, King Cheats-on-His-Fiancée. You might want to reread my letter. My mother and father were Alaskan citizens, but I was born in Los Angeles.”
    The king scowled. “Dual citizenship.”
    â€œRight-o.” Under Alaskan law, merely residing in Alaska did not mean you were a subject of the king. You needed to be Alaskan on both sides and born in the country. Any deviation resulted in dual citizenship, and the gentleman (or bastard princess) in question could claim the other country as her own. “So thanks for stopping by, ta-ta, so long, get lost.”
    The king stood and, like Jeff, he went up and up and up. Of course, he was standing two steps above her, but still. She craned her head to glare up at him. “Go away now.”
    â€œI don’t get it,” he complained.
    â€œI’m not surprised. Mom didn’t like you for your keen intellect.”
    The bodyguard actually flinched, but the king didn’t move. Instead, he scowled down at her. “I’m gonna let that one go by.”
    â€œThanks gobs.”
    His black brows caromed together and his eyes were dark blue slits. But she would not be intimidated! Well, not much.
    â€œIf you didn’t want to see me,” he bitched, “and you don’t want to come to the palace, why the hell did you write me that letter?”
    â€œBecause my mother asked me to. It was in her will. She told me about you and she asked me to get in touch, and that was all she asked.” And it was damn sure all she was going to do. “It was the only thing she ever asked of me in twenty years.”
    â€œOh.” Then, quietly, “I’m sorry about your mother. She was wonderful.”
    Tears stung her eyes; on the whole, she preferred him kingly and commanding and generally acting like a jerk. “Go,” she said. “Please.”
    The bodyguard—Jeff—reached under her trailer with a long arm and retrieved his gun. He gave her a look she couldn’t figure as the king thumped down her steps.
    â€œWell,” the king said after an awkward pause.
    â€œGood-bye,” she said.
    Without another word, they left.
    Nicole fumbled for her door, ran into the trailer, collapsed on the couch, and wept for fifteen minutes. Then she got up, walked to the bathroom, washed her face, and kicked a hole in the cupboard under the sink.

Chapter 7
    A lexander Baranov, descendant of Russian rebels who took a country for themselves, bounded into his office, with Jeff right on his heels. Edmund was spreading out various paperwork for him to sign, which on any other occasion would have dampened his mood and made him contemplate loading a shotgun.
    â€œGood heavens,” Edmund said, eyeing the rumpled Jeff. For Edmund, that was the equivalent of “Holy hell! What happened to you, Jeffrey?”
    â€œMy kid,” Al couldn’t help bragging. “She got the drop on both of us.”
    Edmund blinked slowly, like a gecko. This was the equivalent of anyone else yelling, “Oh my God!”
    â€œMy king, I remind you that we have yet to verify our own DNA testing and—”
    â€œYeah, yeah, but I’m telling you. She’s the spitting image of Alex and Kathryn. She’s got the Baranov blue eyes and the dark hair.” Al plopped into his chair as Jeff took up his position just inside the doorway. Al knew Jeff’s humiliation was a live thing, a stinging thing, and he would stay closer than usual until the sting wore off. Although he was pleased with Nicole, he felt for his proud bodyguard and made no comment when Jeff didn’t leave the office.
    â€œMouthy, too,” Al continued, trying